Hope Dead Lives Nevermore, No,

Hope Is Like A Hairball Trembling From Its Birth.

When I Am Dead, My Dearest, Sing No Sad Songs For Me; Plant Thou No Roses At My Head, Nor Shady Cypress Tree: Be The Green Grass Above Me With Showers And Dewdrops Wet: And If Thou Wilt, Remember, And If Thou Wilt, Forget. I Shall Not See The Shadows, I Shall Not Feel The Rain; I Shall Not Hear The Nightingale Sing On As If In Pain: And Dreaming Through The Twilight That Doth Not Rise Nor Set, Haply I May Remember, And Haply I May Forget.

And May You Happy Live, And Long Us Bless.

Silence Is More Musical Than Any Song.

Better By Far You Should Forget And Smile Than That You Should Remember And Be Sad.